


Presents

by daniwrites



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Christmas, Feels, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 14:39:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daniwrites/pseuds/daniwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles tries to figure out what Derek wants for Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Delivery

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ficlet in a couple of years and the first for the Teen Wolf/Sterek community.  
> My apologizes for the bad writing, it was a stream of consciousness more than anything. It is unbeta'd at this time.  
> There could be a sequel to this if anyone's interested, but it would mostly be smut.  
> But, thank you for reading.
> 
> Edit: Explicit warning is for the next chapter. My apologies if it brings you false hope for this one.

It's Christmas Eve and Stiles looks down at the mess covering his floor. There are messily wrapped presents, ribbons, half eaten candy canes (assorted flavors) and he's not even close to being done. The thing about having more than one friend now is that he has to buy presents for more than his family, Scott and Lydia. 

There is Boyd, who is due for a new copy of Inglorious Basterds because they wore the last one out. Erica who asked for the new line of make up products featuring the cherry red lip stick that for some reason she insists on wearing no matter how many times Stiles tells her they all think she's beautiful and there's no reason to keep trying to stand out, because her smile is enough. Issac says he doesn't want anything, but Stiles saw him secretly staring at a poster for the newest video game when they were at the mall a few days ago. Peter wants wine, but Stiles can't buy that, so he buys sparkling grape juice and hopes that's enough. 

Scott says that he'll buy Stiles a new practice ball if Stiles buys him one and Stiles isn't sure how exactly that makes sense, but it's Scott and that's what he wanted. Allison told everyone that she needed new arrows so there's a package of non-tipped arrows lying across his bed. Lydia is easier because she bought the gifts for herself, passed them out to the group and demanded payment in return. So, Stiles really hopes she likes the cardigan sweater she bought for him to give to her. Jackson gets a ten dollar gift card to the coffee shop he frequents. That barely covers a drink and a snack, but Stiles doesn't like him enough to even care.

But Derek is the reason why Stiles is standing in the middle of his room, trying desperately to think of something to give their Alpha. At no point in the last month did Derek ever answer the question, “What do you want for Christmas?” He would only stare at Stiles for a few moments like he was speaking some foreign language and then walk off. Or he'd rip down the sticky notes Stiles placed all over the Hale house that posed the question of Christmas and presents and what Derek wanted.

Stiles even asked Peter if he knew what his nephew wanted for Christmas and the guy only smiled, patted Stiles on his head and sent him along without any explanation. He tried to get the beta wolves to sniff out the answer, figuratively at first, and then literally when there was no answer. 

“I don't get it,” he groans, scrubbing his hands over his face rapidly, repeatedly, as his brain works double time. “If I was tall, dark and grumpy, what would I want for Christmas?” He begins pacing, kicking aside the gifts that he spent so much time half-assedly wrapping. “Chocolate? Raw steak? Chew toy.” He pauses mid-step and grimaces. “No dog jokes, Stiles, that's just tactless.” The pacing resumes and continues with scenarios playing in his head with Derek and his reactions to various gifts.

The stores are well past closed by the time Stiles climbs into bed, still without a gift for Derek. He doesn't bother changing into his pajamas or even getting out of his street clothes. He's mentally exhausted because even when the guy isn't around, Derek's still an asshole and stressing Stiles out. But he's soon asleep, snoring and drooling on his pillow when flashes of dreams occupy his mind. Some are pretty trippy, others are fun – like the visit to Candyland where he tells Lydia she can have all the caramel filled chocolate she wants as long as he gets a kiss, which his subconscious betrays him and dream!Lydia outright refuses his advances and takes the chocolate anyway. But it's the dream with Derek that surprises him. It's nothing extreme, just Derek sitting alone on the soot covered couch, drinking cold cocoa and staring at the charred floor. But Stiles walks in, dressed as one of Santa's elves, pointy ears, rosy cheeks and curled toed shoes, because he just came from work and don't judge him for it because how else was he going to afford all those presents? Derek looks up and a smile stretches onto his face. The worried wrinkles and pained expression are gone and now there's Derek with mirth twinkling in the green-grey-gold kaleidoscope eyes and he's honestly laughing, no mocking or acting, he actually thinks it's funny and he gets up to stand in front of Stiles, to take him all in and one hand reaches out to brush along Stiles' hip before he disappears down the hall to the kitchen to make new cocoa for the both of them. 

It's then that Stiles realizes that it isn't a dream at all, it's a memory and it wakes him up. He rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling, trying to remember every time that he had ever walked up and seen that smile on Derek's face. It's hard to catch because it comes and goes so quickly, especially when the others are around, but Stiles notices it and up to this point, hasn't really thought about what it meant.

Derek doesn't have a lot of people in his life, nearly everyone he cared was taken away and all that is left of his family is a sassy uncle who tries to hit on teenagers and fathers of teenagers that lost their wife not too long ago and Stiles thinks that there's something there but thinking about two middle aged men doing it had nothing to do with Derek and those thoughts stopped right there.

So, when Christmas morning dawns before Stiles can get a proper night's sleep, he starts the coffee, dumps all of the gifts into the back of his Jeep and shares the first half of his day with the sheriff before his shift. They have large stacks of pancakes and artery clogging sausage links and tons of coffee. Stiles gives his father a new watch since the last one was smashed thanks to some low-life crook and he gets new tin of trading cards for the Magic tournament that is happening in February which Stiles really hopes he can go to and that no one else finds out until after he wins it.

He leaves for the Hale house around two after a full viewing of A Christmas Story. When he gets there, Lydia and Jackson are already there and Scott texts that he's on his way. Issac helps with bringing in all the gifts and there's a sad little Charlie Brown tree that's slumping over in the den of the house where they stuffed as many presents under it as they could, but now they're overflowing and the poor tree seems like it is stressed out. Stiles takes pity on the thing and dumps his boxes near the never used fireplace and flops onto a chair next to Lydia to strike up a conversation.

It's about five when they start their present exchange and everyone's chatting about how much they hoped the other people like their gifts. Stiles gets sweaters and video games and that practice ball that Scott promised. He gets a gift certificate from Lydia for martial arts lessons and is told that he needs to be able to defend himself, so he might as well try it. So, he agrees to go if she does and they set a date for January to put it to use. 

Everyone had a hard time shopping for Derek because he gets the same type of thing, dark jackets and shirts, a new money clip and a hand knitted scarf from Erica that has 'I'm the Alpha' embroidered on it. Derek doesn't seem to mind it because his pack tried, but he (and everyone else) realizes that Stiles didn't hand over a present and Lydia scolds him for it, but Stiles just smiles and stands up. Without a word, he pulls something from a large gift bag that had been resting at his feet the entire evening, peels off the paper and slaps the gigantic red ribbon on top of his head. “I'm his gift,” he states simply, giving that smirk that he gives when he knows that he's known more about something than anyone in the room for a long time and had been dying to get it out.

For a few moments the room is silent and everyone's looking between Derek and Stiles, confused and silently wishing that their Alpha doesn't rip Stiles' face off for insinuating what he is. But what happens next shocks everyone even more when Derek crosses the room at break neck speed, gathers Stiles in his arms and kisses him like he's never going to be able to again. Considering the life that they led, it's a valid concern. They're both dizzy and panting by the time Derek pulls away. His pupils are blown wide and he can see that Stiles' are also. There's giggling around them, whispers from Allison to Lydia and back again, but he has more important issues to worry about like, “Can I unwrap you now?”


	2. Unwrapping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek gets to unwrap the only present he really wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So, like I said, it's been a while since I wrote, so I hope this isn't horrible.  
> Thanks for the comments on the first part, it made me very happy. So, since it was asked for, here's so smut.  
> With some feels mixed in. Oops.  
> Sorry if they're a little ooc, I'm trying to work on that. As the first part, this is unbeta'd, so please excuse the mess.  
> Feedback is appreciated and I hope you guys enjoy.  
> Merry Christmas.

Stiles is a teenager and unlike his friends, he doesn't have much of a sex life outside of his hand and some lotion. So, when Derek pulls him close and asks to unwrap him, he doesn't stop the “hell yes” that slips out of his mouth. This makes Lydia and Allison laugh, happy to see their friends finally get over that sexual tension hurdle, but not everyone is as amused as they are. Scott looks like he's about to vomit, Erica's rolling her eyes. Boyd and Issac are looking everywhere but their Alpha and Stiles. Jackson looks bored and Peter is too busy with his cake to notice anything outside of cream cheese frosting. 

There's a deep flush on Stiles' cheeks and this makes Derek smile, takes him by the hand and leads him upstairs. Really, they should stay a while longer with their friends because there is so much more to eat and Stiles wanted to see Issac play his video game, but if Derek insists, he's not going to stop. He's finally going to get laid, after all, no one should argue with that.

He's lead to the second floor, down the hall to a room near the end. This one seems to be the least untouched by fire and Derek opens the door for him. Nervously, he steps in and suddenly realizes that the ribbon he stuck on his head is still there. He yanks it off and twists it in his hands, watching with a timid smile as Derek closes and locks the door. No one's going to interrupt them, but it's letting Stiles know they have privacy.

There's not much in the room, a bed, dresser, night stand. Derek doesn't seem the sentimental type because there's no reason to be. So there are no pictures or posters on the wall. “Relax,” Derek tells him, moving in front of Stiles and resting his large hands on Stiles' shoulders. “We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'm not going to force-”

Stiles interrupts him before he could finish, nearly shouting, “No. I want this. I'm... I've never,” he trails off, blush flaring out of control and he thinks it possibly covers down to his toes. “This is okay. You want this, right?” Now is not the time to be doubtful because it could ruin any chance of something this awesome to happen again, but the grin on Derek's face calms Stiles immediately. He gets no verbal reply, but Derek leans down to kiss him, slow and surprisingly gentle. They have time now, the shock of these unspoken feelings has died down and now they can explore whatever this is at their own pace.

The hands on Stiles' shoulder slid down his arm and take hold of his hands, taking the ribbon from them just as Derek pulls back. He chuckles because Stiles was still puckering his lips, following after Derek's because Stiles likes kissing and he doesn't want it to stop. Derek steps away and moves to his dresser, setting the ribbon on top of it because this was something to be sentimental about. He shrugs off his jacket and puts it on one of the hooks next to the dresser and nods to Stiles, silently asking him if wants to do the same.

Stiles stares, a little confused before he remembers how to work his body and hastily pulls off his jacket, practically running across the room to hand it over. The smile never leaves Derek's face as he takes the coat and hangs it next to his own and lifts an eyebrow and nods to the bed this time. Stiles looks over his shoulder like he doesn't know what's behind him and the bed looks a little intimidating at the moment. But he moves to it, sits on the end and looks expectantly at Derek. 

Derek takes his place next to Stiles, puts a hand on Stiles' knee and gives it a squeeze. This brings a smile to Stiles' face, gives him a little courage and he reaches out to tug on the side of Derek's henley. He leans up this time, asking silently for a kiss and gets one because Derek has been staring at those lips the entire time he's known Stiles and has wanted to kiss them. Now that he can, he's not going to stop.

Gentle kisses turn into desperate ones and hands that were on knees and shirts are now roaming hard muscle and smooth skin. Derek pulls Stiles into his lap, hands slipping under his shirt to openly explore his back while Stile takes his time, tugging up the shirt that clings teasingly on Derek's chest to get a full view. He pulls back, looks down and tries to stop himself from drooling. Sure, he's seen Derek shirtless more times than he can count, but this was different. This skin was now his to touch and taste, to stare at without being judged.

Stiles runs his fingers from Derek's collarbone down his chest and over the bumps of his abs. He loses himself in the feeling of skin under his fingertips and doesn't know how long he's been staring when Derek cups his face and brings him closer for another kiss, this one a little more forceful. Stiles smiles a little sheepishly and gives a tiny nod to accept that Derek wants this to move along a little faster and, to be honest, Stiles does, too.

Derek pulls his shirt off, tossing it aside and looks at Stiles to see if he's going to do the same. Now isn't the time to be self conscious, but Stiles can't help it. He's sitting on the lap of some type of real life sex god and here he is 147 pounds of sarcasm and virginity, how is he supposed to compare? But Derek seems to sense the hesitancy and offers to take it off for him. Stiles bites his lip and doesn't protest, letting the shirt get tugged off and thrown on top of Derek's.

And there he is, sitting shirtless on Derek's lap. Derek who is so fierce and protective and frightening, but it's obvious this guy wants some kind of affection and Stiles is going to give it to him. Not because he pities the guy, but because he actually feels for him. He cares for Derek and he wants the guy to smile more often, to crack bad jokes and throw out stale one-liners like he does when they're together. Because Stiles knows what it feels like when you think no one cares and that you're completely alone and someone as strong as Derek doesn't need to feel that way. And sitting here, seeing the look in Derek's eyes, the one that's so desperate and hopeful, Stiles knows that he shouldn't feel like that, either. Not anymore.

He pushes forward, forcing Derek onto his back with a triumphant grin. They both know that if Derek really didn't want to move, Stiles wouldn't stand a chance, but Derek does and Stiles now hovering over the werewolf like he's the prey and lanky Stiles is the predator. “You know you're not going to get rid of me after this,” Stiles says offhandedly while hands are shamelessly gripping his behind and causing his hips to shift against Derek's. And hey, look at that, there are erections that are rubbing against each other. He doesn't know how those went unnoticed, but he thinks it's because he's trying to rationalize that sleeping with Derek is okay. And it is okay because he likes the dude and cares about him and if Derek was taken away, Stiles isn't sure what he's going to do with himself.

But another shift of their hips and soft noise coming from Derek tells Stiles that he's here now and doesn't plan on going anywhere anytime soon. Derek doesn't want to get rid of Stiles, either, especially when he flips them over, pinning Stiles to the bed and renews their lustful kissing. Derek's hand is like a furnace on Stiles' skin, burning him with every touch and maybe fire analogies shouldn't be made in the Hale home, but that's the only thing that Stiles can compare it to. 

Lips leave Stiles' and he doesn't stop the whine because of it. Derek laughs huskily and kisses and nips down Stiles' jaw, down to his neck. Here he licks a line over Stiles' pulse, hearing it speed up with desire, but what's more, feeling it on his tongue. This drives Derek to bite him, marking what's going to be known as his from this point on and from the way that Stiles' hips lift off of the bed and the moan that rips from his lips, Stiles approves. “Easy there, tiger,” he laughs, shoving a hand into the dark mess of Derek's hair and tugs it. He gets another small bite in response, but Derek moves on soon enough, teeth finding new areas to mark. 

There's so much tongue and hands that Stiles doesn't know what to do anymore. He's just laying there, one hand curled in Derek's hair and the other that's clenching the sheets, trying to hold on to what he can of Earth because he's pretty sure he's going to be floating to cloud nine if he doesn't. “I'm taking your pants off now,” Derek states, doesn't ask or demand, he just unbuckles Stiles' belt and tugs the jeans down. Stiles has to be okay with it or else he wouldn't lift up his hips to make it easier for Derek. He doesn't look up to see if the werewolf is staring at him, because he knows Derek is taking him all in. 

He feels the bed shift and there's a button popping and a zipper being pulled down, ending with a dull thump on the floor to signal that Derek took his pants off, too. Stiles braves opening his eyes and what he sees knocks the breath out of him. Derek's on his knees, between Stiles' legs, in a pair of very small pair of boxer-briefs and there is his dick, mouth wateringly huge just straining itself against the cotton fabric. His mouth is dry and he licks his lips as a nervous tick and that must have done something to Derek's ego because the werewolf smiles like, well, a wolf.

“I mean,” Stiles finds himself saying, “I guess you're okay looking.” Derek chuckles and rests his hands on Stiles' upper thighs and it makes Stiles sputter. “You're going to have to take it easy on me, dude. I haven't even... tried anything. You know, by myself.” But he has a feeling Derek knows and has taken that into consideration when he brought Stiles to his room.

Derek leans over to the night stand, pulling out a nearly depleted bottle of lube and sits back up, setting it to the side before a hands rests right atop Stiles' clothed erection. The question remains unspoken between them and Derek just shakes his head. “It's for my personal use,” he tells Stiles to hopefully comfort him. “There's no one else.” Because there is no one else. This relaxes Stiles' shoulders a bit and he is rewarded with a squeeze through his boxers in return. There's a nice rubbing rhythm going on and Stiles' eyes slide shut once more, letting himself get lost in the pleasure and Derek lets him have it.

But Stiles can't be selfish, this is a mutual thing here, so he cracks one eye open and licks his lips again. “So, are you just going to sit there,” he askes, a smile pulling up one side of his mouth. He receives a small snort before his boxers are finally pulled off and are added to the pile. His erection jumps a little at the cold, but mostly from the hungry look that Derek has in his eyes. He watches as Derek wiggles down, gets at eye level and takes the base into his hand. Stiles had never had a blowjob before, but Scott says they're great and he's had to take the guy's word for it until now. 

The head disappears into Derek's mouth first and Stiles writhes on the bed for a moment as he adjusts to the new feeling. But what really makes this special is the way that Derek looks up at him. The guy has Stiles' cock in his mouth, tonging at it like it was some kind of candy cane, but he's looking at Stiles, asking if he was doing okay. Stiles puffs out a noise in appreciation and Derek takes that as a cue to take whatever else he can into his mouth. Stiles' head slams back down onto the mattress and his eyes squeeze closed. He's going to die and he's going to be okay with that if he gets to orgasm before he does.

Stiles' hand finds it's way back into Derek's hair and the werewolf begins to bob his head and hallow his cheeks, groaning like Stiles' penis was God's gift to Earth and if he doesn't keep sucking, the world might end. Honestly, Stiles doesn't mind because he's letting out a string of moans and curses of encouragement that eggs on Derek even further. It's only been a few minutes, but Stiles is going to come and he has to stop Derek because he wants actual sex. So, he pulls as hard as he can and gets the guy to stop and Stiles catches his breath because damn.

“Fucking would be nice,” Stiles says stupidly because they both know this is just more than a quick fuck. Derek doesn't react negatively to the comment, only grabs the lube and flips open the cap. He coats his fingers and forces Stiles' knees to bend, opening him up a little more for easier access. Derek's reaching between his legs now, a finger primed and ready to push in, but Stiles stops him, lashing out to grab his wrist before they go any further. “Is it going to hurt? Not that I'm a wimp or anything, but I don't... like pain or anything,” he smiles, hiding his obvious fear behind it and doing a bad job.

Derek gently removes Stiles' hand and pats his knee with the clean hand. “It'll be uncomfortable,” he replies honestly. “It might hurt when I actually stick my...” he looks down at his crotch and back up again, “but I'm going to try and stretch you good enough. I don't know.” Because he's only done this once before and that was a few years ago, but it's like riding a bicycle or something. 

“Good enough,” Stiles repeats. “Good enough.” He rolls his eyes and lays back again, doing his best to relax and not freak out because this is something to freak out about. Derek's finger runs along his crack and circles around the entrance, causing Stiles to whimper and jerk which makes Derek grin. “Asshole. Just do it.”

So Derek does. He gently pushes the finger in, working it slowly until it's three knuckles deep and waits. Stiles adjusts, sighs and shivers before he nods to let Derek do his thing. Two fingers are soon inside Stiles and he isn't sure if he likes it or not. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, and he isn't sure why those dudes in porn videos like it so much. Well, they are paid to like, but there has to be more to it than that, right? 

The fingers scissor and move in and out of Stiles, opening him and stretching and causing abnormal amounts of discomfort. He doesn't stop Derek, though, because it'll be worth it just to have that intimacy with the man, to bring him happiness. But what Derek does next causes stars to explode behind his eyes and suddenly the human sexuality lesson all those years ago come back to him. The prostate, that's why guys like anal so much. “Holy fuck,” he gasps, sitting up a little to stare at Derek, a little starstruck at what just happened. “This is totally going to be worth it. Keep going.”

Three fingers are now in Stiles, brushing against the bundled nerves when Derek feels like Stiles is getting bored and brings him back from space and into the room where they're going to have sex. Derek seems to be satisfied at the stretching because he pulls his fingers away, Stiles whining in return, and wipes them on his underwear before he stands up to push them off.

Stiles is sitting up for the show again, watching as the dark cloth disappears and the thick, leaking cock that is attached to Derek bob freely. “Hey,” he grins, sitting completely upright and pats the space between his legs and Derek climbs back onto the mattress, sitting on his shins, curious. “I just want to touch it,” Stiles snickers, reaching out with both hands to gather some of the pre-cum and slathers it down the length of the shaft. He's never held another guy's prick before, but he's imagined it. His long fingers easily wrap around the girth, but that doesn't mean anything because Derek's big and he's going to hurt Stiles which makes him nervous. He fights that, though, nimble hands squeezing and pumping, trying to memorize each inch of skin, each raised vein.

Derek's gone. His head is lulled to the side, eyes closed, mouth open with soft moans escaping with each squeeze Stiles gives. “Alright,” Stiles says loudly, snapping Derek out of his daze and lays back with his legs up once more, “get it in me.” It wasn't meant to be sexy, but it causes Derek's dick to twitch and leak a little more. He grabs the lube and drips it onto his erection, taking the time to coat it thoroughly because the last thing he needed was to hurt Stiles.

He gets into position, head pressed at the stretched hole and leans down. They haven't kissed since this started and if Derek's honest with himself, he needs one. “If you need me to stop,” he offers, lips brushing against Stiles' and gets the answer of, “I know.” Because they're on the same level now. So, he pushes in slowly, moaning against Stiles' open mouth and one is echoed back at him. 

Stiles is tight and warm and perfect and it's Derek's turn to feel like he's going to explode. And it's more than Stiles' virgin ass, it's the comfort that he's trying to bring Derek, the feeling of love and friendship and whatever else that this could be that's positive and happy. He pauses irregularly, letting Stiles adjust to the feeling of something much bigger than fingers penetrating him. Legs are wrapped around him soon, heels digging at his lower back to keep him going and soon there's no more to give. He's balls deep and everything is good on his end.

But Stiles has a look of utter confusion on his face. Is he supposed to enjoy this feeling of being so utterly full? Is it supposed to feel right when another guy has a dick up your ass? He locks eyes with Derek, seeing concern there and Stiles gives him his best smile given the circumstances. This is Derek, he's the guy buried inside him and Stiles decides that it doesn't matter if it's okay because yes, it does feel right. “So, sex, right,” he laughs, feeling himself move around Derek.

“Sex,” Derek replies, starts a new kiss and pulls back. Pushes in. A steady rhythm is started, one which they both seem to be good with. Stiles' hands are in Derek's hands, on his shoulder, scratching up his back. He's starting to enjoy the feeling, even with the slight twinges of pain shooting through him. And Derek's burring his face into Stiles' neck, feeling the pulse thump against his lips, hearing it racing along his own. 

He lifts Stiles' hips up a little, getting a new angle to find that prostate to give Stiles some pleasure, too. It takes a few (or more) thrusts, but he brushes against it and blunt nails dig into his biceps. So, Derek pulls back to watch Stiles now, his thrusts speeding up, getting deeper and hitting the nerve enough to get a new string of curses to come out of the teen's mouth. He's encouraged to go faster, to bring them closer to the edge that they've been teetering on since they got out of their clothes.

Skin's slapping against skin and Stiles reaches between them without being a prompted and hastily jerks himself off. His free hand reaches blindly for one of Derek's and threads their fingers together, squeezing as he feels himself getting closer. It's a simple act, but it clenches Derek's heart and the werewolf gets a little possessive. Most people brush Stiles off because he's a hyper, little smartass, but the kid is extremely loyal and caring and just wants to make bad things better. And that's what he's doing and Derek likes to think he's doing the same for Stiles.

They're both moaning and whimpering each others' name. The slick sound of skin mixes in and their pace is enough to shake the bed and it slams against the wall lightly. “Derek,” Stiles groans, opening his eyes to see the guy in those last blissful moments, “Derek...” His eyes slam closed, his body twists and he's coming between them, coating their torsos with sticky white and it's enough to set Derek off, too. He snaps his hips forward a few more times and soon he curls forward, muscles locking up as he fills Stiles up with his own mess. 

They're both sweaty and tired, but Derek manages some energy to pull out and flops onto his stomach next to Stiles, spent. He'll change the sheets later, but first he needs to remember how to move. And Stiles isn't much better. He has that goofy grin on his face, staring at the ceiling as if it was the one that fucked him into blissful oblivion. “That was... fucking amazing,” Stiles laughs, finally turning his head to look at Derek with a bright smile that makes his eyes sparkle just a little. “Best present ever, right?”

Derek looks over his face, memorizing every inch of happiness that's on it and nods a few times in agreement. “Almost better than Erica's scarf,” he grins and earns a punch on his shoulder. Stiles forces him onto his back and it's crazy how quickly the guy's energy rebounds because he's moving to straddle Derek's waist and lays on top of them, semen covered chests and all. Stiles snuggles down and hides in his neck. “Merry Christmas, Stiles.”

“Ditto,” Stiles yawns. “So, what do you say about us taking a shower, getting some of those brownies Allison bought and go for round two.” He can feel Derek's chest bounce with laughter underneath him, but all the werewolf does is wrap his arms around Stiles' waist. And it only takes a half hour when their chests start to get itchy with dried cum, that they do just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a tumblr if anyone's interested in contacting me there: lostinbeaconhills


End file.
